


Reluctant Heroics

by Kate_Shepard



Series: Crossroads [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mass Effect Trilogy, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anti-Hero, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: When the Reapers threaten, Loki recognizes a danger bigger even than Thanos. His plan: keep Thor occupied elsewhere, get out, and return as gods once more. For that, he needs the first human Spectre and the one person who's managed to kill a Reaper. But Commander Shepard presents a bigger threat to his plan than the Reapers because she's not going. And Loki finds himself unwilling to leave without her.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Loki (Marvel)
Series: Crossroads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679845
Kudos: 9





	Reluctant Heroics

“We have a problem.” Sif stormed down the docks to the wharf.

“What’s wrong?” Valkyrie asked, turning to face her.

Sif said, “Do you remember the tales of how the Asgardians came to be the most powerful people in the Realms? How Asgard came to rule the Nine Realms?”

Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed. Her pulse fluttered in her neck. “Of course. Every student learns this. There was a war. There usually is when power changes hands so drastically. The Protheans ruled Midgard and the realms when a strange machine race invaded and destroyed them, setting all of Midgard back to a veritable Stone Age. We were the next most advanced race in the realms, so it fell to us to rule. Why do you ask?”

Sif said, “There is a human woman claiming that the Reapers have returned, that they destroyed the Protheans and are now back to slaughter us. Few believed her, but the Citadel has come under attack by what can only be the thing which she described. She stopped it, for now, but claimed that more will come. They are no legend, Brunnhilde.”

Valkyrie’s jaw clenched. “You are not Sif. Show yourself, trickster.”

Loki sighed and let the disguise fade away. He held his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat. In the more than a century and a half since New Asgard was formed, he had only been here a handful of times. That she recognized him likely said more about her knowledge of Sif than her familiarity with him.

He said, “This is no trick. The Reapers are real, and they are coming. I have broken into the Citadel’s archives in the guise of one of their Spectres and accessed the data myself. There is no doubt in my mind that what attacked them is the same thing that demolished the Protheans.”

Valkyrie said, “That’s not possible. It’s _just_ a legend. What game are you playing, Loki?”

He said, “No game. I swear it. According to the commander’s report, the Reapers come every fifty thousand years to wipe out all advanced life in Midgard. Who is more advanced than us? Those asari may be close after Ragnarök set us back, but we still have more technologies than they do. Earth may have been underdeveloped when we arrived, but between our influence and Wakanda’s and their integration into galactic society, it has now risen to prominence within this realm. If the Reapers are looking to destroy advanced life, the Council races will be the place to start. That includes the humans now, which means Earth, and that means us.”

She said, “If what you say is true, why come to me? Why does Thor not stand beside you?”

“You are King of Asgard, and I…well, I don’t know exactly where my brother is,” he admitted.

She took an aggressive step forward. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” he said, raising his hands again. He wasn’t here to fight. This wasn’t time for games. This was the biggest threat to the galaxy since Thanos. “He’s fine. He’s just with that odd team of his somewhere, and he doesn’t talk to me much anymore.”

Why his brother had chosen to spend more than a century with the irritating creatures, he didn’t know. Thor always had been drawn to the outcast and downtrodden. He’d questioned how they hadn’t all died already and gotten a long-winded explanation he didn’t care much about.

The tree was virtually immortal as long as it didn’t get turned to ash since it could regenerate from any of its parts. The insectoid empath had no idea how old she was or how long she would live, but it seemed to be longer than even his kind. The human was half-god, and even though he was powerless without the source of his energy, his genes still allowed for longer than normal life. Zen-Whoberians could live for hundreds of years. The cyborg was all but immortal. The destroyer claimed his mother lived for five hundred years. And while raccoons on Earth apparently had nonexistent lifespans, whatever animated the annoying one on his brother’s team had kept him around.

They’d spent decades guarding the galaxy from…whatever they were guarding against. Loki did his best to avoid them, not seek them out.

“I wonder why,” Valkyrie scoffed.

Loki waited out her insults. He couldn’t exactly blame her. He had never been the honorable sort even as a child. Mischief was just so much more _fun._ Mother had understood him. Unfortunately, she was gone. His fault, not that he relished admitting to it. The fact that Thor still talked to him at all was probably a wonder.

She sighed and said, “I’ll look into it. If what you say is true, then we will prepare to defend Earth.”

She was going to stay and fight?! That wasn’t why he had come to warn them. “Why not just evacuate? There are other realms. I can take you to them. Leave the humans to their fate. Their lives are so short anyway. All of those you knew when you came here are gone. The ones you know now will be soon no matter what you do. Why fight it? Leave them to their fates, and if you wish to return someday, whatever is left will be so primitive that they will worship us as gods again!”

She shook her head in derision. “You really have learned nothing, have you? We will not leave these people to die to improve our own standing. We do not rise on the backs of corpses, Loki!”

“Yes, you do!” he hissed. “Everyone does! _You_ stand on the backs of my father and grandfather and on before him even as you lecture me about the same damn thing, and you know it.”

She snapped, “I am not king because I let them die! I am king because I picked up the pieces after they left no heirs who both wanted and were worthy of it!”

“I never had the chance to be worthy of it,” he snarled. “That was reserved for my beloved brother.”

She shook her head. “That self-pity’s going to kill you, you know. Trust me. Been there. Let it go, and maybe you could be worthy. Your life did not end when the crown fell out of your reach. Go find something you believe in and put all of this _wasted_ potential to use for something other than feeding your own self-loathing.”

She sounded so much like Frigga he could hear his mother’s voice in her words. His snarl deepened. “Fine. Die here. Then I _will_ rule.”

“Over what?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Ashes?”

With a huff, he let the illusion fall and came back to his room on the Omega station. A strange place, this, though this galaxy was full of them. The Citadel was another, but it was too orderly for his liking. Omega was just his style. Chaotic, lawless, self-concerned.

He asked himself why he hadn’t left already. It wasn’t as if he liked this realm. He would likely have time to escape once the Reapers came, but it would be wiser to leave it all behind right now. If only he could be certain that his foolish brother would remain out wherever he was, troubleshooting the rest of the realms and leaving this one to its fate. He wouldn’t, though. He’d named himself guardian of Midgard. Given the rumors circulating around human colonies going missing, he knew it was only a matter of time before Thor returned unless he could find a way to keep him away.

* * *

That way came in the form of something which could not possibly be. He had been following both the plague in the slums—which was deliberate; he’d bet his cloak on it—and the mercenary war ongoing against the group calling itself Archangel.

They’d supplied him with entertainment for months, though he’d ignored them at first. The idealistic notion that a handful of people could turn the tide on a place like Omega was laughably typical of this realm. Until they began to, at least. Once they did, the interplay between the factions was fascinating. He waited to see them fail. Every time they didn’t, he was drawn deeper into the intrigue. Now, though, it appeared their reckoning had come.

He projected to the boulevard where the battle was at its peak and prepared to watch the idealists be slaughtered. They were holding back the enemy forces, but they were running out of supplies and the salarian had stopped moaning in pain more than an hour before. The turian was alone now. He would soon fall and Archangel would be no more, demonstrating the folly of trying to defeat entropy.

But then a trio of humans came over the barrier. The shorter female, clad in heavy armor painted a deeper red than her hair, cracked her knuckles before drawing her shotgun from the small of her back. He’d come to know that face while researching the Reapers. It wasn’t possible for it to be here now, but she was. Or a representation of her was, at least.

He knew better than to assume that something was a certain person based on looks alone. She could be a clone or a cyborg or any number of things that weren’t what she appeared to be. The faint red glow beneath her scars and behind her eyes that made her look like she’d been reborn on Muspelheim supported the cyborg theory.

But if she was not the real Commander Shepard, she was as close to it as any being could possibly get. She sounded like her, both in voice and tone. She moved like her. She fought like her. If she’d been Asgardian, Shepard would have been a Valkyrie. He had no doubt about that. The natural skill she displayed could be improved upon, but it could not be taught. He followed her through the compound, watching as she took over the battlefield and changed it to her will.

His curiosity was piqued. If this wasn’t Shepard, he needed to find out who she was. If she was, then he needed to know how. Either way, he thought he saw the way to keep Thor at bay. He returned to himself and began collecting the few things he’d brought with him.

Finding her ship was easy: it was a more advanced replica of the one before. Sneaking onto it was easier still. He found a crewmate wandering the docking bay, disabled him, and strode on using his appearance. He familiarized himself with the ship and found a hidey-hole beneath the engineering deck. From there, it was a simple matter to project himself about the ship to do reconnaissance.

By the end of the day, he’d learned that she was supposedly the real Commander Shepard, that she had been killed and resurrected by the group with which she was now affiliated. Cerberus, a human terror organization. He’d have expected an Alliance soldier as decorated as she to balk, but her records showed that she was more amenable to the Illusive Man than even her former superiors and appreciated the freedom he granted her to get the job done. He wasn’t the only one who preferred working outside the law. The more he learned about her, the more he thought if only she weren’t human, she’d be perfect.

She was known for her mercilessness, but she wasn’t evil. She preferred to be left to her own devices to get things done. She followed only the rules which suited her at the time. She hovered somewhere closer to villain than hero, but she just couldn’t bring herself to sit back and watch the world burn. She was enough like him that he decided he might not completely disdain this particular human.

He wasn’t satisfied to remain here as a laborer, so he spied over her shoulder when she sorted through the dossiers to determine who to recruit next. The convict stood out to him, but that one sounded crazier than he liked to portray himself. He couldn’t pretend to be stupid enough to be a krogan. The thief was interesting. Her preferred fighting style was blades and sneak attacks, which would suit his style perfectly. And he wouldn’t be expected to fit into some kind of moral role.

When Shepard went to the Citadel to meet her, rather than take a chance on the real Kasumi finding her first, he intercepted her on the docks outside C-Sec. He’d done his own research on the thief, and wanting to get Shepard away from the Citadel, he made up a mission to retrieve the greybox stolen by Donovan Hock. He didn’t really need it, but he could evaluate her skills and by the time the two of them returned, the real Kasumi should have decided Shepard had declined her offer and moved on.

He would like to say the mission went off without a hitch, but…. They dealt with it. Despite lacking a magical hammer or axe, Shepard managed to turn into a semblance of a storm goddess herself with her biotics. She blinked into and out of existence almost as quickly as he did, and when she reappeared, thunder flew from her fist.

Loki wasn’t much of a warrior. Not that he was unskilled. Odin ensured that both of his sons knew how to wield their blades and lead a war. Frigga taught him to turn magic into a weapon, and she’d been a fierce fighter. He just didn’t like it. He preferred to use his wits to avoid a battle. However, when he couldn’t, he’d primarily fought with Thor and his band.

Aside from Valkyrie, Lady Sif was one of the best female fighters he’d ever seen. He doubted even _she_ could withstand the force that was Shepard, though, and suspected it would likely have taken all of the Warriors Three to challenge her. She wasn’t on a level with Hela, but he would put her up against the best of Asgard and his money would not be on his people. For a human, that was impressive. He felt almost superfluous until he took down the gunship.

He let her convince him to destroy the greybox, and by the time they returned to the _Normandy_ , she was convinced that he was Kasumi, and the real one was no longer there. All in all, it was a successful endeavor. He was embedded on the ship. Now he could ensure that she took care of the problem and Thor stayed far away.

* * *

Loki followed Shepard astrally through the batarian prison and onto the shuttle, cursing his inability to appear before her to warn her that Kenson was not what she seemed. He knew frauds, and she was one. He was the father of lies. He recognized them when he saw them. But by the time Shepard wised to the situation, it was too late.

Foolish human. If she’d only used her eyes, she’d have seen the truth. Of course, she’d had lies staring at her throughout the mission and hadn’t figured those out, either. For such a ruthless woman, she was blind to others’ treachery. He hadn’t yet determined if it was hubris or the last vestiges of innocence. He suspected a little of both. These humans were children. Their lifespans weren’t long enough to allow them to acquire the knowledge and experience to be anything but. They needed to be led, yet they fought against it like youngsters resisting bedtime.

When she was captured, he sighed reluctantly and projected himself onto the base. His avatars could do little but distract and draw attention, but when he realized that he couldn’t wake her, he spent the interim searching the base. If nothing else, he could serve as a guide when she woke. The countdown clock was coming very close to disaster.

Ascertaining the asteroid’s location took time since he couldn’t interface with anything directly, but he eventually did and broke the projection for long enough to mimic Liara T’Soni to provide the pilot and XO with Shepard’s coordinates. With any luck, they could get there in time to take down Kenson, direct the asteroid toward the mass relay, and get out before it hit. The lives on the planet within the system meant nothing to him. They were doomed regardless when the Reapers reached them in a few hours.

When he was finally able to wake her, he showed her his true self—albeit clothed in the modern fashion—and claimed to be an ally.

“Are you with Kenson?” she asked with the suspicion she should have shown _before_ getting captured. “How did you avoid indoctrination?”

“I’ve been away,” he said mildly. “Just arrived back today, pieced together what was going on and decided to assist you. Wait here. I don’t have the key.”

Disguising himself as a soldier, he told one that Kenson required the prisoner. Trailing behind, he let Shepard dispatch them when they entered the room and then led her to the armor locker with her things.

“How much time do we have?” she asked.

“Little more than an hour,” he replied, “so I suggest you hurry. Kenson is still on the station. She will try to stop you, but I know what we need to do.”

“I’m doing exactly what she’d already planned,” Shepard said. “I’m sending this damn rock into the mass relay. Do you know where the controls are?”

Oh. Well, that made things simple. He should have trusted her ruthlessness.

“I do,” he said.

He cursed when Kenson interrupted them and set the rock to blow. If he could be any more useless, he might as well not have been there. Shepard moved through the base like she hadn’t just spent forty-eight hours under the influence of an alien intelligence.

When they were finally waiting for extraction, she stalked up to him. “Who are you, really?” she demanded, shoving a hand out. It went through him. Her eyes narrowed, her tone hardening. “I say again, who the _fuck_ are you?”

“A friend,” he said, grinning and sketching out a bow. It might have even been true. He liked her, for a human.

“What’s your name?” she asked in a tone that could have cut glass.

She seemed utterly unconcerned that she was now alone, hurtling toward a mass relay that was growing in their field of view, and that debris from the asteroid was whipping past her like a gale. Her green eyes—always his favorite color—were fixed on him through her mask. Her gun was only half-lowered. Her shoulders were set.

“Loki of Asgard,” he said, letting the illusion fade and leaving her alone as he heard the announcement over the comm that they were about to pass through the doomed relay.

* * *

Shepard stalked out of the med bay and dropped into the seat beside him with a heavy sigh. She’d been in the med bay for hours with her former admiral, justifying the decisions on the asteroid. Her skin was drawn tight over her face. Exhaustion lurked in her eyes. Frustration tightened her shoulders.

“What’s the verdict, Shep?” he asked in Kasumi’s voice.

“Lockup,” she said. “They can call it whatever they want, but the Alliance is locking me up.”

“Screw them,” he said, adopting the rougher vernacular of the humans. “You don’t work for them anymore. Tell them to sod off. What’s the worst they can do?”

“Go to war with the batarians when all of their resources need to be building for the Reapers,” she said, resting her head on her forearm on the table. “In other news, I think I’m either crazy or indoctrinated.”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing on her beneath the hood he always wore.

She hesitated for a moment before lifting her head. “I…saw something. On the asteroid. It wasn’t like hallucinations I’ve had before. This wasn’t…it seemed real.”

Him. She meant him. “What did you see?”

“A man. But not…not just any man, you know?”

Oh, he knew.

She continued, “The most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Gorgeous. Tall, lean, sharp features, eyes like a hawk, long black hair pulled up into a bun. And that _voice_. Gods, Kasumi, I could have listened to him talk all damn day,” she groaned in delight, stirring heat in his belly, before sitting up and going back to her normal, clipped tones. “But then I noticed his shots weren’t actually doing anything. And there was this odd green flicker when he got shot. Not blue like a barrier or shield, but green. When I confronted him, my hand went right through like he wasn’t there, and there was that weird green flicker again.”

“Maybe it was a holo,” he suggested, still internally preening a bit at her description.

“Not without a projector, and you can still see those,” she pointed out. “He claimed he was Loki of fucking Asgard. Like, out of Norse mythology. So, yeah. Given that I highly doubt the non-existent god of mischief just happened to show up to pull my crazy indoctrinated ass out of the fire, I’m currently hoping I didn’t just destroy an entire star system for nothing.” She laughed to herself. “Of course, if I _was_ going to have one of humanity’s gods as my personal patron, he _would_ be the one I’d end up with.”

He said, “You do realize, Shep, that the Asgardians have lived on Earth since just after the turn of the century, right?”

“Bullshit,” she said flatly.

He said, “I’m serious. EDI, will you please tell the commander the location of New Asgard on Earth?”

The artificial intelligence answered immediately, “New Asgard is located in Tønsberg, Norway. It is home to the remnants of the Asgardian population following the events of Ragnarök which destroyed their homeworld. Humanity once worshipped the Asgardians as gods, but they are a mortal race with lifespans five times longer on average than asari or krogan. Some possess abilities similar to biotics which they refer to as magic.”

She said, “So…you’re telling me that Loki, Thor, Odin, Heimdall, and the like are real and currently living in _Norway_?”

He said, “Well, last I heard, the last two are dead. I don’t know that the first are actually in Norway right this moment, but yes, that’s what I’m telling you.” With a grin, he added conspiratorially, “I’ve seen pictures of Loki and Thor. Loki’s the pretty one.”

“Is he now?” she asked, meeting his gaze beneath the hood.

He felt as stripped bare as if she’d pushed it back, peeled away the disguise, and looked into his soul. It was the same look Frigga would give him whenever he tried to trick her and gave himself away. Which was always. He never had been able to fool her.

A smirk lit Shepard’s face and she asked, “Do you think it’s true that he shapeshifted into a horse and let a stallion fuck him, then stayed that way for eleven months to give birth to Odin’s eight-legged horse?”

His laughter pealed across the mess hall, bright and surprised. He let the Kasumi form fade away and spread his hands innocently. She’d caught him. No human had ever managed that before.

“What gave me away?” he asked.

“Besides your ego?” she asked. “The way you said the name. So, Loki of Asgard, are you new to the _Normandy_ or have you been Kasumi the whole time?”

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid,” he said wryly. He leaned in and asked, “Are you going to lock me up now?”

“Why the lie?” she asked, watching him closely. “Why not just announce yourself? You think I’d turn you down, but not the world-class thief or the convicted terrorist or murderous mercenary leader or master assassin? Or is it that you’re not human? You think Asgardian—or, well, frost giant, isn’t it really?—is more of a deterrent than the turian, asari, drell, quarian, krogan, salarian, or _geth_ currently aboard? You’re very short for a giant, by the way. Is that your natural form?”

She was remarkably calm about all this. He supposed it was relief that she wasn’t indoctrinating that had her refraining from dominating his mind and turning his brain to liquid or throwing him across the room with a flick of her wrist. Perhaps she just didn’t consider him a threat.

He said, “The height, yes. I was aware, thank you. It has been mentioned. The rest, not so much. A semi-permanent illusion cast by my late father. Why? Would you like to see?”

“You think I’m going to say no to that offer?” she asked.

He should have anticipated that. It had taken a long time for him to learn to undo Odin’s work at will without touching something Jotun, but he had. With a heavy sigh, he unknitted the glamor and appeared before her in his natural form.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t recoil. Instead, she leaned in, her green gaze drinking him in. Color rose to flush her cheeks in a pale pink blush.

Her hand reached out, but before she made contact, she asked, “May I?”

“I don’t see why not,” he said, startled by her fascination.

There was no revulsion in her face. He hadn’t expected fear from her, but she didn’t look at him the way he’d seen her look at batarians or vorcha. Her touch was surprisingly gentle on his thick blue skin, but it sent a shockwave through him that reverberated in his chest before fading away. Red eyes met hers. She traced the raised lines in his flesh, but when she would have taken his hand, he drew away.

“My touch can burn,” he warned.

So, too, he realized, could hers. He could still feel the sear of her fingers on his flesh. Her hands dropped to her lap.

He let the glamor return and faced her again in his human form. “What now?”

She shrugged. “You haven’t told me why.”

“I don’t want my brother in this realm when the Reapers invade,” he said, electing to bare the truth. “Thor and I have not always gotten along, but he is the last family I have. I don’t wish to lose him, too. But he is sworn to protect Midgard—your Earth—and has extended that protection to humanity. If he heard about the Collector attacks, he’d have returned and there would be no getting him away. Which means I, too, would have to stay, and I don’t want to.”

She straightened, looking at him intently. “Where would you go? You mean to tell me that there are other ‘realms’ that can be accessed from here? What are they? Other galaxies? Other universes? How do you get there? Does it take a special type of ship?”

“Woah, slow down,” he said, holding up a hand to her. “Easy, Shepard. One question at a time. Yes, you would call them galaxies. There are many, but eight of them are connected by Yggdrasil…you know what? You have the extranet and EDI. Look up the Nine Realms if you’re not familiar with them. I think the point of your question, though, is could they be used to evacuate Midgard.”

“Could they?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” he said. “There are many, many worlds out there. Worlds beyond counting. Worlds that even my people do not know about. And…yes, I know how to travel between them. There are ways known only to a few, but it is not always easy to cross between worlds. Very few would be practical for a mass exodus, and my people would not allow you to risk bringing the Reapers to new realms. Midgard’s galaxy could fall in its entirety before that would be allowed to happen.”

She said, “I need a list of every realm we can access, the location of every access point, the number of people it can handle per hour or size of ship it can take, everything that you know. We will not abandon our galaxy, but if it is going to fall anyway, we could at least save the people.”

“You sound like my brother,” he grumbled. “Why should these people be saved? What’s so special about them? Why is your first thought to bring everyone else and not to just ask me to get you out? Or even you and those you care about?”

She said dryly, “It was. But they have people they care about, and those people have people they care about. Where does it end? Might as well take them all.” She tapped the table as she stood and leaned down to say against his ear, “Get me the data, Loki, or get the hell off my ship.”

“Farewell, Shepard,” he said jauntily. “Let me know if you change your mind and want passage. You’re a tolerable human.”

“And how would I do that when you’re not going to be anywhere near the _Normandy_?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.

“Pray,” he suggested.

* * *

He watched her throughout her captivity. Not all the time, of course. But occasional check-ups turned to daily check-ins in-person while he monitored the circumstances around her to ensure she wasn’t being tortured or mistreated. The one human he could actually tolerate, and they’d locked her away.

He’d been in enough gilded cages to empathize when he found her pacing the room, ready to climb the walls. Disguised as one of her guards, he began delivering various gifts to entertain her. There were only so many books a person could read at a time before one wanted to throw them at the wall; at least, that had been his experience. So, he brought her things to do with her hands. Model ships to build, instruments to learn, videos to watch, games to play, and news of the silence around the galaxy as those in the know held their breath and waited for the inevitable arrival of the Reapers.

At least her confinement was likely to be short. She wasn’t at risk of, say, three thousand years underground in a box. _That_ would be maddening. She was crawling out of her skin after three months. Why she hadn’t chosen to leave by now bewildered him. She could if she wanted to.

He suspected that she could tell the difference between him and the actual James Vega when he came around, but she never said a word. His confirmation came with her lack of surprise at seeing him when the Reapers finally arrived. When the building shook from the force of the descending machines, he didn’t need to look through the gaping hole in the wall to know what it meant. It was one of the real Vega’s days with Shepard, so he hadn’t gone to her. Dread, deeper than he’d felt since he and Thor had recognized Asgard’s doom, settled in his belly. In his mind’s eye, he watched his homeworld crumble beneath Surtur’s blade.

He gathered his things and raced from the room. He broke the window of the first intact skycar he came across and activated it, dodging red laser beams and exploding ships, weaving in and out of traffic as drivers panicked and scattered from their normally pre-determined lanes. Looking down, he caught a flash of red hair and put the skycar down as close to her location as he could, setting it down on a rooftop.

Shepard looked up and gestured to her companion. They shifted their path and a moment later, she was diving into the skycar with the man behind her.

“We need to get to the _Normandy_ ,” she said breathlessly.

He nodded sharply and turned for the docks. A shuttle exploded nearby, raining burning pieces of metal and people. Others screamed below as creatures unlike any he’d ever seen tore them apart. One appeared to be eating its downed companion. Shepard leaned out the open window and fired. The man with her did the same behind him. Driving took his entire focus, though. He was a good pilot, but the sheer amount of debris raining down around them and the unpredictable paths of the Reapers’ lasers meant that it was more his affinity for chaos than any real skill that got them to the docks where the pilot had the _Normandy_ ready to go. By the time they arrived, the city was unrecognizable.

The admiral insisted on remaining behind, but he reinstated Shepard on the docks and ordered her to bring help. No amount of help was going to save them. It was Ragnarök all over again. All they could do was concede defeat and go.

Loki jogged up the cargo ramp behind Shepard, snatching at her elbow. “We can still escape,” he told her. “I will take you anywhere in the realms you wish to go. Vanaheim is very nice. The Vanir are like us. Or Xandar. It’s in Andromeda. Practically neighbors, and isn’t there a contingency of your people already in transit there? If you don’t like Nova Corp, we can leave Xandar. There are many worlds there which would be perfect. Alfheim, the home of the light elves, they would welcome you. Anywhere, _anywhere_ but here.”

She whipped around to face him, her eyes scanning behind him, and scowled, focusing on him again. “How could you even think of leaving? Do you see what’s happening? If we do that, trillions upon trillions of people are going to die. I am not a coward, and I’m not a full-blown psychopath. Do what you want, Loki. I will not run.”

He bit back a curse and chased her onto the ship. “There’s a difference between cowardice and self-preservation. Is it fear or wisdom to know when the battle is lost and retreat? Or are you so certain of yourself that you truly believe you can defeat thousands of what took fleets to destroy one?”

“They’re just machines,” she said firmly, striding deeper into the ship. “And machines can be broken.”

The pilot cut into her reply, connecting her with the admiral who’d imprisoned her. A few minutes later, they were breaking atmosphere, flying through the remains of what had to have been an entire fleet, on their way to Mars with the human biotic who’d been her instructor, lover, and teammate, and yet turned his back on her on Horizon.

The omni-tool he’d eventually decided to install pinged. He opened it to see his brother surrounded by a group of concerned faces. They all began speaking at once.

“Loki, what is this I hear about an invasion—”

“Is America still there?”

“What in the world is a Reaper?”

“I am Groot.”

“You guys aren’t seriously thinking about going back there.”

“Peter and Thor are afraid.”

Loki held up a hand and said, “One at a time! Yes, Midgard is under attack by the Reapers. They are real. We have been trying to delay or prevent the invasion, but we failed to do so. New Asgard was warned and Valkyrie has been preparing for the last two years. Interplanetary communications seem to be down, though, and I suspect I cannot hail them. _Stay. Away._ ”

“Are you safe, brother?” Thor asked, his brow furrowed in concern. 

“I am with Commander Shepard aboard the _Normandy_. I am either as safe or as endangered as I can be in this realm,” he answered.

“We’re on our way,” Thor said.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the raccoon cut in. “How many times do we have to save this damn galaxy before we get a break?”

“I am Groot.”

“We cannot abandon them,” Nebula said. “We did not defeat my father to allow machines to do worse than what he had planned.”

“Agreed,” Gamora said. “We’re on our way.”

“What she said,” Peter said.

Loki scowled. “Were you not listening? These are _Reapers_. There is no defeating them! I just watched them lay waste to Vancouver in a matter of minutes. This is bigger than Hela. Bigger than Thanos. Bigger than anything we have ever faced before. We cannot win this. This. Is. Ragnarök. Stay away. As soon as I can convince Shepard to leave, we will meet you somewhere safe.”

Thor blinked rapidly. “ _You_ are concerned about a human? Why not just leave without her? By your logic, she’ll be dead in a heartbeat anyway.”

He clenched his jaw, unable to answer the question for a long moment. Finally, he said, “She is the first person to have looked upon the real me without fear or doubt. She is not just any human.”

“She won’t leave,” Thor predicted.

“She will,” he insisted. “Once she sees how hopeless it is, she will. I will convince her. I have made plans in the event that Midgard must be evacuated. If that is what it takes, I will put it into action. It will not be the first time an entire realm turned refugee.”

“Send me those plans,” Thor said. “Peter, Gamora, and Nebula can begin preparing for them here. Rocket, Groot, Drax, Mantis, and I will come to you. When arrangements are made, we will reconvene and decide what to do.”

“You don’t understand,” Loki said, raking a hand through his hair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You cannot come here. It is too dangerous.”

Thor gave him a beaming smile that made his blood run cold. “You sound like you’re worried about me, brother. Do not concern yourself. I will be fine. We will meet you in two days’ time wherever you are. Thor, out.”

Cursing his brother, he turned to find Shepard arguing with Vega about returning to Earth. She quickly shut him down and began gearing up. Loki dropped his bag onto a bench and retrieved his armor. She stopped, cocking her head at him, and a faint smile curled her lips.

“You’re staying,” she said.

“Only long enough to convince you of the folly of doing so,” he groused.

“I already know it’s impossible,” she said. “That just happens to be my specialty.”

* * *

Once again, Loki found himself chasing Shepard. This time, though, it was through a field of fire and death the likes of which he’d never seen even in this war. Above them, Harbinger roared, sending a beam of ruby light cutting across the gray remnants of London. Ahead, the beam beckoned. It seemed impossibly far. By comparison, the run to the Devil’s Anus on Sakaar was child’s play.

He didn’t know when the decision to stay turned permanent. He only knew that every time he’d decided to run, the idea of leaving her behind drug at his feet and made him feel like he was losing his home all over again. One more day, he’d promise himself then. One more try.

Thor was right. She wouldn’t run. Not away, at least. No, Shepard only knew how to run _toward_ certain death. He would say she was courting it if he wasn’t almost convinced that whatever Cerberus had done to her had made her as close to immortal as he.

Overhead, Thor flew toward the machine with hammer in hand. His eyes blazed. Lightning sheathed him. Thunder chased after like a wave. The resultant crash made the machine stagger like the one Shepard had taken down on Rannoch. Loki was just as afraid for Thor now as he’d been for Shepard then.

Valkyrie and the other combat-ready Asgardians—which was every able-bodied one of them—had abandoned New Asgard to join the fight where it was the thickest. They’d arrived in London two days ago. They fought to his right and left, carving through husks and cutting down marauders and cannibals.

Peter Quill flew past him but was knocked to the ground by an airborne vehicle. Gamora screamed and ran for him. Rocket and Groot had been shot down but survived. They were elsewhere in the city. Mantis was attempting to bolster the troops. Drax barreled forward, not stopping to shoot.

He registered all of this as he darted just behind and to Shepard’s right, projecting illusions of himself over the battlefield to distract the machine and cover those on the ground. Kaidan ran on her left, reaving anything that got in their way. But Loki’s focus was on Shepard. His eyes never left her. She had to survive. He would let every person in this city die if it meant saving her.

Calling her human didn’t come close to describing what she was. She was a warrior. She was a hero. She was calculating, cold in her reasoning, unscrupulous, ruthless to her enemies and loyal to her few friends, willing to lie and mislead and prevaricate if it got her what she needed.

He loved her. He loved her and she had to survive. So when the Makos came flying toward them, he didn’t hesitate to deflect them even though he only had the energy to change one’s trajectory by a few feet. Nothing would separate him from her. It exploded near Kaidan, and she immediately skidded to a halt and reversed course. Her eyes sought him first, relief filling them when she saw he was whole, but dismay shadowed her features when she realized Kaidan had been hit.

They didn’t have time to stop, but she looped an arm around Kaidan and dragged him into the dubious shelter of the overturned Mako, calling in the _Normandy_ to extract him. She tried to put Loki on the ship as well, but he refused. He had not abandoned her throughout the war. He would not do so now. Together, they ran for the beam.

When Harbinger’s laser cut across the ground toward them, he shifted into an enormous bird of prey, grasping her in his talons and carrying her away just as the red beam cut into the ground where she had been standing. Rather than drop her, he flew toward the bright light, his wings beating as fast and hard as he could, and dove into the white light just as Harbinger sighted on them again.

They came out on something he believed to be the Citadel. Shepard groaned and pushed to her feet, and Loki resumed his form, helping her up.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she said, her eyes searching his face for a moment.

She glanced around and took half a step down the blood-soaked passageway they found themselves in before executing a determined about-face and framing his face with her gauntleted hands. They had said stilted goodbyes on Earth, but he realized now it was not the one he’d wanted. Her lips crashed into his, drinking him in. He responded without hesitation, pulling her into his arms without heed for her armor. Her tongue was warm and soft against his, desperation and grief and love and regret flavoring it. She pulled away far too soon, spun on her heel, and marched down the passage like she was marching to her execution.

He followed, catching up to her and taking her hand in one of his. The other conjured a blade. Hers glowed blue. Whatever came, they would face it together.

They reached the center and were confronted by a corrupted version of the Illusive Man, her former Cerberus boss. Loki could have told her from the beginning that he was dishonest. It was right there in his name. But he hadn’t needed to. She’d known. Neither of them, though, had guessed the depth of his treachery until it was too late.

The Illusive Man tried to make her shoot him. His fist clenched. Black mist surrounded it. Shepard pulled the trigger. Loki’s avatar flashed green, and he buried his blade in the man’s heart.

Shepard ran to the terminal overlooking the closed ward arms and instructed them to open. Loki moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist when they began to shift, revealing the blue marble of Earth and giving them a front-row view of the battle being waged above it. She leaned back against him, her fingers twining with his as they watched the Crucible dock above them.

They waited like that. And waited. Nothing happened. Hackett called down to her. She worked the console, and he helped, but neither of them could find a setting that would control the massive construct. Finally, a platform beside them began to rise. They jumped onto it and rode it up.

Waiting for them was a holographic figure of a child, a girl with braids in her hair who called her Red, not Shepard, and begged her to save her. Shepard faltered, her knees trembling. Loki caught her, listening as the machine pretending to be her dead sister attempted to manipulate her into saving itself.

“It is lying,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered, straightening. “Destroying them was the only choice I was ever going to make.”

With that, she strode to the enormous red tube flanking the beam of light in the center. He expected the intelligence to protest, but it stood silent. Her pistol cracked as she shot and shot again, walking inexorably forward. He caught her and pulled her back just as a wall of flame would have engulfed her. Above them, the Crucible rumbled to life, shaking on its struts and sending dust raining down around them.

They needed to get to shelter, but Shepard refused to move, staring up at the Crucible as red light crackled around it like the Omega 4 relay. A beam burst from it, flaring out into the void. The station exploded around them. He lunged for Shepard.

Half an eternity later, he pushed up from the rubble and looked down at the body lying beneath him. She was still, so still. Her legs lay at an odd angle. A piece of metal rebar plunged up through her thigh. Had he crushed her when the pieces of the Crucible collapsed on top of them? Had she hit her head? He checked for a pulse, but he wasn’t familiar enough with human physiology to know where to place his fingers. He could be right where it should be, or he could be inches away.

“Shepard!” he shouted. “Damn you, Shepard! Wake up! Do not leave me, love. Not now. Not yet. I am not ready for this heartbeat to end. I love you, Shepard. Come back to me.”

She breathed.


End file.
